


From Baltimore, With Love

by hereholdmyhobo



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:02:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28956876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereholdmyhobo/pseuds/hereholdmyhobo
Summary: Almost a year after the fall from the bluff, Will and Hannibal begin their new lives far from what they left behind in Baltimore.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 7





	From Baltimore, With Love

Will still wasn’t sure how they’d survived. He remembered embracing Hannibal, breathing in the smell of blood and death and Hannibal’s cologne. He remembered the sudden rush of emotion he’d felt before sending them both plummeting into the cold ocean below, somehow missing the jagged rocks only a few feet away. He could recount with perfect clarity breaking the surface of the water and taking in lungfuls of salty ocean air, and the brief moment of elation when he didn’t immediately spot Hannibal. The elation quickly turned to dread, and whatever remaining strength he’d had be spent desperately searching for the other, despite the loud and confused voice in his head screaming at him to stop and just let it be. He could still feel the dead weight of Hannibal’s cold body in his arms, and the frantic movements he’d made to get them to safety. But everything else after that was a blur of pain and nausea. 

He only knew how long it had been by what Chiyoh had told them (how she had found them he still couldn’t recall, and even after he’d asked, she failed to respond), though he didn’t entirely trust her. She had thrown him from the back of a train, and shot him, after all. 

He still wasn’t sure how he felt about his current situation. His every waking moment was a whirlwind of contradictory emotions, and his dreams, when he actually managed to sleep, left him feeling guilty and ashamed. He wanted to talk to someone about it, but letting Hannibal anywhere near his mind at that point certainly wasn’t an option. He figured it was about time he thought for himself. 

But that wasn’t the case when, roughly seven months after their fall into the bluff, Will found himself sitting in the passenger side of a stolen car, Hannibal driving, hands at ten and two on the steering wheel. He seemed intensely focused on the road in front of him, though Will suspected Hannibal kept glancing at him. They’d been driving in almost complete silence for several hours, Will barely noticing the scenery flashing past them, Hannibal making the occasional comment, but only getting a grunt as response. 

Will looked over at Hannibal’s profile for a few moments, then looked back down to the papers on his lap. He’d been going over them again, studying his and Hannibal’s new identities, learning his new name. Chiyoh had managed to procure everything they’d needed in order to begin somewhere far away from Baltimore, and though Hannibal had expressed his wishes to travel to Europe, Will quickly squashed that idea by reminding him what had happened in Florence. They’d finally reluctantly agreed on staying in the country for the meantime, though Will didn’t know where. Judging from how Hannibal was driving he had a destination in mind, but Will hadn’t been paying attention to where they were driving. 

He shuffled the papers together and stuffed them back in the glove compartment before reaching onto the dashboard and picking up the day’s newspaper. He scanned the first page before opening it and quickly reading the first few pages. There was a small article about how the FBI were still heading the search for both him and Hannibal, but not much else. He sighed and folded the paper again, then went back to staring blankly out the window. Things had slowly died down in the media, which was a blessing and a curse. The first time he’d seen a newspaper with his and Hannibal’s faces plastered on the front, he was sure he would have a panic attack. 

* 

“I’m dead?!” 

“Presumably.” 

Four months after he and Hannibal had fallen from the bluff was the first time Chiyoh had returned with a copy of that day’s newspaper. She’d looked at Hannibal hard as she set the paper down on the table, and didn’t move her gaze from him as Will lifted the paper and unfolded it. He’d almost shouted his response in disbelief, looking up at Chiyoh, who finally turned her emotionless eyes to him. 

“I can’t say I read more than the headline before I took a copy.” 

Will barely heard her – he was far too distracted by his and Hannibal’s mugshots on the front cover. Carefully selected photos of the two of them with their masks over their mouths. The headline read, 

DRAGON SLAYERS STILL MISSING – SEARCH FOR BODIES REVEALS NO NEW LEADS 

“You did drop us off of a cliff, Will.” 

Hannibal had turned his attention back to his book. Will shot him a look before reading aloud, 

“There are still no signs of Hannibal Lecter, now known to be the Chesapeake Ripper, and disgraced FBI agent William Graham, following their disappearance after the death of Francis Dolarhyde, aka ‘The Tooth Fairy’. Dolarhyde, whose body was found on the grounds of a house formerly owned by Hannibal Lecter, was described as having been ‘butchered’ by the two previous inmates of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Forensic evidence found at the scene showed a great amount of Graham and Lecter’s blood, which had led detectives to believe that they succumbed to their injuries and fell from the bluff into the sea. Jack Crawford refused to comment...” 

Will looked up at Chiyoh and Hannibal again, not sure what reaction he thought he wanted from either of them. Their stony indifference was infuriating. 

“At least Jack didn’t speak to anybody.” 

“No...but they did try to speak to your wife.” 

“Molly?!” Will let out a strangled cry before turning back to the newspaper and frantically scanning for the article. He found it, as part of a continuation, on page four. 

Chiyoh was right. There was a photo of Molly and Walter, leaving the Quantico building. The photo had been taken from a distance, as though the person taking it hadn’t wanted to be spotted. Even though the photo had been blown up and the quality was poor, Will knew how Molly looked when she had been crying. The sight tugged at his heart. He continued to read the paper to the room, not caring if they were listening or not, 

“Molly Graham, wife of Will Graham, initially refused to comment on the allegations against her husband, but later told our reporter that ‘whatever Will had done he had done for good reason’, and that he ‘wouldn’t willingly take his own life’. She also expressed hope that her husband would return, and be able to explain his absence.” 

All Will really wanted was to go home, but whenever he thought about it, he found himself torn. His missed Molly and Walt tremendously, there was no doubt about that. However, the time he’d spent with Hannibal, regardless of their injuries and the pain they’d endured, constantly gave him a rush, a boost, something he hadn’t experienced since killing Randal Tier. Ultimately, he knew his decision would provide him with new challenges, and nothing would be the same again, which was why he knew he had to weigh up either option before making it. Still, seeing Molly and Walt so obviously in distress made him want to pack everything up there and then and leave. 

“They think we’re dead, but Jack is still searching for leads...can’t say I’m surprised.” 

“He wouldn’t want to let go of such a big catch, Will.” Hannibal’s eyes flashed as he looked up at Will, a small smile playing on his face. “One of his adversaries was vanquished, and the other disappeared into the depths of the sea. I’d imagine the thought of me being free once again has caused him many a sleepless night.” 

Will rolled his eyes at Hannibal and set the newspaper down on the table beside him. He leaned forwards and ran his fingers through his hair. It was a lot longer than he was used to, though didn’t trust either of his companions with a pair of scissors so close to his throat. 

* 

“Where are we going anyway?” Will croaked, emerging from his daydreams and looking over at Hannibal again. “We’ve been driving for hours. I’m hungry.” 

“You’ll know when we get there.” Hannibal looked in the rear-view, then smiled over at Will before turning his attention back to the road. 

“Cryptic, as always. Of course...” Will opened the glove compartment again in the hopes of finding some kind of snack, but he only found papers and, surprisingly, a pair of gloves. He slammed the door shut and sighed. “Is there any chance of stopping somewhere and grabbing a bite to eat?” His stomach gave a growl as they passed yet another gas station. “We haven’t eaten since breakfast.” 

“I’m aware.” 

Will frowned. “Please, Hannibal.” 

The addition of the ‘please’ made Hannibal smile. Will had gotten awfully good at getting what he wanted out of Hannibal over the last few months, and he couldn’t deny he greatly enjoyed it. Indulging the other’s whims left Hannibal with a sense of euphoria, and he chased after it as often as he could. “Certainly, Will. Once the opportunity presents itself.” 

“You’ll hardly find a gourmet restaurant out here, Hannibal. You’ll have to bring your tastes down to my deliciously greasy level.” 

Hannibal’s nose wrinkled slightly. He hadn’t thought about that.


End file.
